


It's too late to try. Someday, I'll smile and say goodbye

by Morgawse



Series: The bitter then the sweet [3]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Overdose, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Addiction, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:12:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgawse/pseuds/Morgawse
Summary: Frank just wants to disappear.  He is a nothing, covering himself in tattoos so no-one can see him.  That is until he finds himself stuck smoking outside his therapist’s office with an enigmatic man with medium-length black hair who seems as haunted, lost and broken as he his.  It’s so obvious they are supposed to be together – even the receptionist can see it.  Does the damaged angel with black hair see it too?





	It's too late to try. Someday, I'll smile and say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Blink 182 – No Future. Love that song, almost the best on California!
> 
> Just be aware as per the tags, there are references to mental health issues, drug & alcohol addiction, self-hatred, death by overdose, and suicidal thoughts. Although none are graphic if they will upset or trigger, please don’t read.
> 
> I think I got all the typos & mistakes. If not, apologies.

There was something about the two men sat in the waiting room in front of her. One was turning an orange disc between his fingers. The other was chewing on the skin at the side of his left thumb. The two of them side by side was an adorable tableau. If she didn’t know batter, she would have sworn they were a couple. They weren’t of course, or at least not as far as Janice was aware. This was the first time that their appointments had coincided. They had come in several minutes apart, barely acknowledging the other’s presence in the room. Both lost in their own private agony. She doubted that they had ever met before, nor would they meet again after today’s therapy sessions. Piqued by the strength of her own intuition’s urging that there was something more to these two, she took another look at their files. No clues in there. Only the barest details of the case histories of yet another couple of people for whom therapy really didn’t seem to be working. Janice sighed imperceptibly. Although she worked as office manager for a couple of psychotherapists, she sometimes doubted whether all the talking and drugs ever did any lasting good. But it paid the bills and her bosses were good guys. But these two though! She was so sure they had to be together.

The sound of screaming shattered the peace. Now the same voice was shouting. Then nothing again. No, not nothing. There was a thudding noise, rhythmic and repetitive, like someone was banging their fist on a desk. A calm voice was heard. Just loud enough to be heard, yet not loud enough to hear what was being said. The thudding didn’t stop, suddenly it was accompanied by a high-pitched keening. Realisation dawned. That thudding was, in reality, a head being banged against a wall. Dr. Wentz’s client was having a major meltdown.

“Gentlemen,” Janice said calmly, “would you mind stepping outside for a few minutes. Drs. Stump and Wentz require some privacy to handle this situation. If this is not resolved soon, we understand that you may not be able to wait and will gladly rearrange your sessions.”

“Uh, yeah sure.”

“No problem.”

The two men, both looking slightly unnerved got up from their seats and made their way to the practice door. The taller man’s hand shook slightly as he reached for the door handle. Once outside they made their way round to the side of the building. As if in some cosmic synchronicity, they reached simultaneously into their pockets for cigarettes. So far, they hadn’t really acknowledged each other’s existence.

The taller man leant back against the wall, one leg bent up behind him. With his lean physique, medium-length black hair and slightly feminine beauty, he could have passed for a model, if it hadn’t been for the haunted look in his eyes. The shorter crouched down against the wall, almost as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Perhaps wishing he could totally disappear.

Taking a drag on his cigarette, the black-haired man sneaked a look at his companion. Fascinated by the tattoos on his neck and hands, he wondered if there were more underneath his clothing. 

“Quite the disturbance in there. As if therapy wasn’t unnerving enough!”

“I know what you mean.”

“Oh, I’m Gerard by the way.”

“Frank.”

“Awesome tattoos.”

“Thanks.” Frank muttered.

Gerard got the distinct impression that Frank didn’t really want to talk. That suited him too. He was only trying to be polite. They continued smoking in a comfortably uncomfortable silence.

*One week later*  
Janice noticed that the two men had booked for the same time that day. She smiled. The way the two of them had been the previous week when she had called them back in for their appointments only served to strengthen her feeling that they belonged together. She still couldn’t work out why she was so sure they were both gay – she just was.

Frank was already waiting when Gerard came in. Looking up as the door opened, Frank marvelled at how he could have missed how good looking the guy was. Quickly he realised that he was staring and might appear rude, so shifted his gaze back to his phone. 

Gerard caught Frank staring. Inwardly he hoped it was a good thing. He knew he looked like shit from lack of sleep. The nightmares were catching up with him again.

Before either man plucked up the courage to say a word to the other, Dr Wentz came out to call Gerard in for his appointment.

When the time came for Frank’s session, Dr Stump started asking Frank more questions about his tattoos. Periodically he would come back to this topic – usually if he had noticed another appear on an exposed piece of Frank’s skin.

“So, let’s talk about the new tattoo you got last week? Why?”

“It just felt right,” Frank mumbled. He didn’t want to go there. Of course, the tattoo was another reminder of how he really ought to just disappear. Every piece of art on his body was a constant reminder of how worthless he was. Getting tattoos was twofold for Frank. Firstly, he used his skin as a scrapbook of his shitty life. Secondly, the more of himself he covered up, the more he removed traces of the terrified, neglected and abandoned child he had once been. 

“What was right about it?” 

“Really? Do I have to do this?”

“No, Frank. You don’t. You come here voluntarily. You may stop any time you wish. But, you came here looking for answers, support, and strategies to cope better with life. We must understand the driving forces behind these behaviours, the meanings you attach to them before we can move forward. The more you resist and deflect, the more painful the process.” Dr Stump sat back watching Frank try to sink further down into his chair. He would wait for Frank to speak again.

Frank really hated the wat he did that. It shifted the focus fully onto Frank. That seemed like a waste of the therapist’s time. Sure, Frank was paying him, but he wasn’t anyone that a professional like Dr Stump should be devoting time to like he mattered. Because he didn’t. Frank was a nobody. After a couple of minutes of uneasy silence, Frank piped up. “It’s no different than I’ve told you before. It’s right because if I cover enough of my body, then maybe it can be like I don’t exist.”

The rest of the session progressed with the usual platitudes and worn-out “time-tested” methods. It ended up with Dr Stump reminding Frank that he was on the planet here and now, which in fact meant that Frank was someone who mattered. Frank kept his disagreement with that sentiment to himself as he left. Yet somehow, he found himself making an appointment for the same time the next week.

This strange universal connection that Janice saw between Frank and Gerard continued the following week, as they both finished their sessions at the same time. “Maybe see you next week?” Frank offered. “Yeah, same bat time, same bat channel” Gerard replied wryly as he left.

*One month later*  
Gerard so badly wanted therapy to work. He wasn’t really holding out much hope though. The first time he had quit the booze and the drugs, it hadn’t been easy, but he had been able to go cold turkey in just seventeen days. He had been so sure he wasn’t one of those perpetually “recovering” addicts. Yet, as his life had a habit of doing, it all got turned upside down when his grandmother died and then Bert left him so quickly after, sending him spiralling down the rabbit hole again faster than Alice could say “curiouser and curiouser”. No family interventions had worked. His friends had vanished. For a while he managed to keep his job as an illustrator, but soon they wouldn’t tolerate his drunken behaviour. That was when his good friends, the drugs, had wormed their way back into his life. Now, therapy with Dr. Wentz was a court mandated thing, a condition of his continued liberty. He had been lucky to escape jail time after the incident at the pharmacy. 

He went to his support group meetings, but he didn’t really connect with anyone. Not the way he thought he could connect with Frank. Mind you they hardly knew anything about each other, they didn’t talk much in the therapists’ offices and hadn’t met anywhere else - yet. Give it time. Frank looked like he needed time to get used to the idea of new people and well, to be honest he hadn’t really dated since Bert. The most he had done in years was a few hook-ups in exchange for drugs or the money to buy liquor and drugs. There was something about the idea of him and Frank though, like it was meant to be.

*Three months after their first meeting*  
Frank was looking forward to his session with Dr Stump today. In truth, it wasn’t the therapy that generated the slight flurry of excitement. If it wasn’t for the fact that without he doubted whether he could hold down a job, he probably wouldn’t bother with it. No matter how good Dr Stump was, Frank still hated talking about himself, his past and worst of all, his feelings. No, this frisson of anticipation was about seeing Gerard again. Their sessions had been at the same time for about three months now, with neither missing more than one on the spin. Each time they met his breath was taken away by Gerard’s looks, his laugh, the way he carried his very visible vulnerability. Today was the day he would finally ask him out.

By the time he got to the therapists’, he was running slightly late. Pushing the door open, he allowed a slight smile to play on his lips. But his expression froze before it was fully formed. Sitting in Gerard’s chair was a girl he had never seen before. Another typical customer for this place – chewing on her bottom lip while tapping an annoying rhythm on the arm of the chair and repeatedly murmuring the same three words that he couldn’t quite make out under her breath. There weren’t any other chairs in the waiting room. Gerard wasn’t there.

As he checked-in with Janice, he commented as casually as possible. “No Gerard today then?”

“No Frank.” She replied quietly. “Not today.” There was something about the way she answered that unsettled Frank even more than his routine of seeing Gerard before therapy being disturbed. 

“Oh well, there’s always next week.”

Janice didn’t reply. She couldn’t bring herself to. She really had thought that those two were destined for each other. She sensed Frank knew it too. A lump began to form in her throat which she quickly swallowed as she blinked back the tears threatening to well up in her eyes. She busied herself with getting the files ready for both therapists’ next appointments. Drs Wentz and Stump still liked to have a hard copy of the last session’s notes rather than rely on computers.

None of Janice’s actions went unnoticed by Frank. He knew it wasn’t really any of his business, but he was sure that it was something about Gerard’s absence that was upsetting the normally highly professional receptionist. “You ok, you seem a little shaken?”

“No, all good thanks. Just a little behind on prepping the client files for you and Ms Murray’s appointments.”

Frank wasn’t convinced. He didn’t want to push, so he left it there, resolving to ask Dr Stump. There was a distinct atmosphere in the practice today. It was making him increasingly anxious. He clocked that Janice shot a furtive look in his direction when Dr Stump cam out if his consulting room to fetch Frank. He had also seen how on edge Dr Wentz had looked when he came out for his client. No, he wasn’t wrong about the feel of the place today. Something was wrong.

Straight out of the box, anxiety getting the better of him, Frank dispensed with the usual pleasantries. It wasn’t as if Dr Stump didn’t know Frank was interested in Gerard, they had talked about it, even if it was only veiled references. It was Dr Stump that had encouraged him to ask out the guy he had seen the same time and in the same place for the past three months.

“Where’s Ger.., er I mean Mr Way?”

“I’m sorry Frank, I can’t talk about that.”

“But I know something’s going on. You know it’s him, right? The dude I’ve been going on about. The one I think might just make me feel like I’m something.”

“Yes Frank. I had worked that one out.”

“So, please tell me!”

“As I said Frank, I can’t talk about it.”

“But…but…what do I do now. I don’t know where else he hangs out. If I …”

Dr Stump rand a hand through his blonde hair. He knew where Frank was heading, but he couldn’t just blurt out details about another patient. “It’s not that I don’t want to help Frank. That’s what I am here for. But patient confidentiality is a big thing.”

Frank was really starting to spin out now. “BUT YOU’RE NOT HELPING. None of this is helping!”

Janice had told him she suspected Frank would ask questions about Gerard. Dr Stump felt caught. He couldn’t cross ethical boundaries on the one hand, and on the other the only thing that had seemed to be making a real difference in all the time he had been counselling Frank was talking about Gerard. Didn’t he deserve to know the truth? Taking a moment to observe his client, Dr Stump considered his next move. Against his better judgement, humanity won over professional codes of conduct. 

“Look Frank. This isn’t easy to say. I know I have been encouraging you in this. I thought it would be good for you. I felt we were finally making a breakthrough in how you saw yourself. I suggest we take this session to allow you to process what I am about to tell you.” Taking a deep breath Dr Stump told Frank that he would never see Gerard again. Never get to ask him out. He explained that Gerard had fallen back into some old habits over the last month with drink and drugs. Finally, he revealed that Gerard had been found dead of an overdose the day before.

All at once three things became crystal clear to Frank. One, he fully believed in love at first sight, he had experienced it first-hand the day he got his first proper look at Gerard. Two, on hearing the news of Gerard’s death, his heart had irreversibly exploded into a million tiny pieces. Three, he would never be anyone to anybody.

Instantly he went from overwrought to calm. The time had come to put his long-held plan into action. No-one would miss Frank Anthony Iero.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry. :( Blame post meltdown blues and a playlist of songs like Therapy, The End, Jeremy, Wrong Side of Heaven, The Nobodies, Adam’s Song, Give Me Novocaine, Better off Dead, Demons and One Last Breath. 
> 
> Numbers 4 and 5 are underway, as is a new multi-chapter fic, watch out for them if you like my work.
> 
> I would love to hear constructive comments from you lovely readers. You can comment here, or on Twitter @morgawse_hp.


End file.
